


What is Love?

by birgit8789



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Architect Illya, F/M, Mechanic Gaby, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 06:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23846392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birgit8789/pseuds/birgit8789
Summary: Gaby has not had a whole lot of luck in the love department. The only thing that has stayed constant in her life is mechanics. Can a tall Russian man turn her love life around?
Relationships: Alexander Vinciguerra/Victoria Vinciguerra, Illya Kuryakin/Gaby Teller
Comments: 13
Kudos: 58





	1. A History of Wrong Guys

Love never came easy to Gabriella Teller. 

Her family was her first love. A mother who tucked in toy cars along with her daughter. A father who worked hard to provide and made it to every ballet recital. Even a weird uncle she would be forced to write to each holiday.

Her mother was the first to go. Her mother had gotten sick suddenly and was dead just as fast. Her father stayed longer, but disappeared when she was seven. Her uncle was, thankfully, too busy to care fulltime for a child. The world moved fast around her, and suddenly she was a Schmidt. 

Gaby packed up all of her belongings, said goodbye to the only home she had ever known, and left Germany.

As she lost her friendships in life, Gaby found a second love in her new home, mechanics. Ballet practice was forgotten, and Homework left unfinished because of the hours she spent under cars. The hours she spent awake at night after she developed insomnia were occupied by fiddling with auto parts.

Gaby grew into a mechanic at her foster father’s shop, with brown hair pulled away from her face with a bandana. Coveralls enveloped her skinny figure, and grease covered her tan skin.

Mechanics was the only thing that stayed constant when her foster family died. After crying for hours, Gaby could be found where she always was, in her shop. What was once the Schmidt’s garage, became Gaby’s. 

She was content being alone. Well, not alone. She had her love of mechanics to keep her company.

A man showed up. He arrived in his expensive car and flirted endlessly with her. When she fixed the minor damage to his car, Alexander Vinciguerra asked her out for a drink. Why the mechanic said yes is a mystery even to her, but she found herself in bed with him hours later.

She thought it might be love. He would show up at the garage every couple of weeks and sweep her off her feet. He would take her on expensive dates and buy her lavish gifts. Every date ended with them in her apartment having sex.

Alexander Vinciguerra left Gaby’s apartment after one of their dates and never came back. She waited anxiously for him to passionately take her away again but met his wife instead.

Victoria Vinciguerra was a tall, blonde, supermodel-like woman. Everything Gaby was not. Victoria arrived in her expensive car with her husband in the backseat and screamed at Gaby, humiliating the mechanic in front of her colleagues. Gaby was called a whore, slut, and bitch multiple times before Victoria took her car and drove away with a smirk on her lips. 

Gaby removed herself from the glares of her coworkers and locked herself in the bathroom. Thirty minutes later, she emerged with puffy eyes and a runny nose. Ignoring the looks sent her way, the mechanic went straight back to work.

Her love life was filled with meaningless flings and drunken one-night-stands after that. Every weekend, Gaby would find herself walking home with messed up makeup and heels in her hands. Gaby wanted nothing to do with love after it had abandoned her so many times.

Until they showed up.


	2. Illya Makes An Entrance

A Russian accent knocked her out of her focus. “I said it was fine.”

“You are not driving a fire hazard to work every day, Peril. Waverly will kill me if the second-best architect gets blown up.”

She put down the auto part she was fiddling with and searched for the source of the noise.

“You aren’t going to be in the car so he has nothing to worry about, cowboy,” a Russian man hissed.

Gaby traced the source of the voices to a tall, blonde-haired man and his friend. She wiped her hands on a nearby towel and headed in his direction.

His American friend perked up at the sight of Gaby and gave her a charming smile. “Excuse me,” the ‘cowboy’ spoke first, “my friend here is having car troubles and needs assistance.”

“The car is fine,” the Russian man insisted while glaring at his friend.

Gaby decided to interrupt their little feud by introducing herself, “Gaby Teller," she looked between the two men. "I think I’ll be the judge of whether or not the car is fine.”

She looked around for the reason for the commotion. “Where is the vehicle?”

She was guided to the front of the shop where she faced a car with most of its front dented.

Gaby was left agape at the sight of the car. “H-How did this happen?” Gaby stuttered while inspecting it, shocked.

The American smiled mockingly at his partner. “Illya here is too ashamed to tell me.”

Illya frowned deeply at her reaction and avoided the eyes of his friend. His finger began tapping his thigh. 

“Have you thought about buying a new car?” The mechanic was shocked. “I can probably fix it, but it'll be expensive.”

“If you can fix it,” Illya pauses to sigh, “fix it.”

Gaby was confused by his insistence, but she wasn't complaining. 

"Really? You can fix this piece of junk?" The American burst out in surprise.

Gaby gave the man a quizzical look. "Are you doubting my abilities?" 

It was the Russian's turn to give his companion a mocking smile. 

Before the shocked American could answer, his phone rang. "Well," the man recovered his composure and kissed Gaby's hand, "it seems that I must be off." He hurried away, leaving Gaby alone in silence with the Russian man.

"I'm sorry," the lone man broke the silence. "Napoleon is very... special." He gazed with furrowed brows in the direction his friend had left. 

Gaby chuckled and said, "I can see that. I've met many like him." She turned towards him, "Illya, right?"

He returned her smile with a stern look. "Yes, Illya Kuryakin," he paused before getting back into the business. "When will you be done with my car?"

She was put off by his unfriendliness. "Honestly? I have no idea. The parts will take time to come in, so I would arrange some rides until I can tell you more."

For what seemed to be the hundredth time that day, Illya frowned. "I see. Is it alright if I come in every once in awhile to check up on it?"

Gaby mirrored his frown and said, " If you give us your contact information, we will update you on the state of your vehicle."

They discussed his car and expenses further, and Gaby soon had everything needed to start work on the car. 

Gaby's eyes followed at the tall figure while he walked out of the shop. She pushed him to the back of her mind and focused on the car part forgotten on her desk.  
_______________________________

Gaby ordered the parts needed and forgot about Illya and Napoleon.

A month passed, and she had done the most work on the car as she could. Parts were trickling in very slowly. Illya's car was the least of her worries at that point.

Flowers and little trinkets would show up at her desk every week from Alexander. Gaby would throw away the flowers and regift the trinkets, but more would show up the next day.

In the process of throwing away the flowers of the week, Gaby ran into Illya. She tried her best to avoid him while heading towards the dumpster, but he went out of her way to talk to her.

"Ms. Teller," he opened his mouth to speak but got distracted. "What- Why are you throwing away perfectly good flowers?"

"I don't recall it being any of your business," she huffed. "Why are you here?" 

As she went inside the garage, Illya followed close behind. "I just came to check on the progress of my car." he caught sight of his vehicle. "Have you tried to fix it? It looks the same as the day I left it here!" His hand was shaking against his leg.

"Your car is not the easiest to get parts for, Mr. Kuryakin," she said while busying herself with one of the many broken car parts on her desk.

"I left it here a month ago!" His Russian accent was bleeding through more heavily than before, "I should expect some sort of improvement"

Gaby felt her cheeks heat up as his outburst attracted her coworkers' attention. "Yelling at me is not going to make the parts arrive any faster," she reasoned. 

"Блядь! I expected better than this! I should have known better than to leave it in this chop shop! This is not the Russian way!" Illya aggressively gestured around him.

That was it. "Oh, shut up! My father built this shop from the ground up," she snarled. Tears were threatening to spill. "To hear you insult his blood, sweat, and tears is Eine Menge Scheiße" If Illya hadn't grappled everyone's attention with his yelling, she sure did. 

Illya was staring at her, slackjawed. "If you hadn't half-destroyed your car, you wouldn't be in this position anyway!" Gaby continued to growl at him. "Yelling at your mechanic who is agreeing to fix up that piece of scrap metal is probably not the way to get it done faster!"

Gaby and Illya were left staring at each other in uncomfortable silence while all her coworkers stared. Gaby was taking deep breaths, not breaking eye contact with the Russian. He was frozen, unable to move after being put in his place.

What felt like an eternity passed before the Russian composed himself. "I'm sorry, Ms. Teller." There was no indication of his previous episode. His face was back to its usual stoic nature. "Would you be willing to get coffee with me?"

It was Gaby's turn to be slackjawed. This man who had just barked at her asked her out? "No, you will be contacted when your vehicle is ready," Gaby answered bluntly. "Please, leave my shop."

Not willing to upset her even more, the man left. 

Gaby turned around to head back to her previous project and was met with the glares of her coworkers. She sighed. This was going to be a long day.


	3. I Like You A Latte

Much to Gaby's dismay, Illya Kuryakin showed up to the garage after a week. Luckily, he did not catch Gaby throwing away that day's flowers. He again captured the eyes of everybody and uncomfortably stood over Gaby while she was working under his car, coincidentally.

She watched the shadow shift his weight until he spoke. "Ms. Teller?"

She swore silently. Deciding that she would rather not talk to him, she did not respond and kept working.

"Excuse me, Ms. Teller?" Illya tried to get her attention.

Gaby held her breath and decided to rip off the bandaid. "Yes?" 

"Can I speak to you?"

Shit.

"Give me a second." She pretended to work on the car before rolling herself out.

Soon, she was face to chest with Illya Kuryakin. (What can she do about it? He's tall.) Before Gaby could kick him out, he spoke. "What is your coffee order?"

The mechanic stared at him with a confused look.

"If you aren't going to get coffee with me, I might as well bring it to you," he looked at her with a slight upward curve on his lips.

She raised an eyebrow at his proposal. "No, I have to work on the car you so desperately want to be finished."

"No?" Illya wasn't shaken, "I guess I will wait here until you're done for the day."

Gaby opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Gaby tripped over her words and managed to produce a sentence. "What?" She took a deep breath. "I-It'll be too late for coffee."

He stood his ground. "Then we go for drinks," he said with a small smirk.

A sour look swept over her face. "No."

He tilted his head. "Why not?" His Russian accent was driving her mad. Was this a game to him?

Gaby clenched her fists at her sides. "I have a bad history of drinks with customers."

"Then go to coffee with me."

"Oh mein Gott." She pinched the bridge of her nose, not caring about the grease she was transferring. Should she go? Hell, Illya might leave her alone if she does. "Fine." 

His eyebrows shot up. "I will be here tomorrow, then." He gave her another slight smile, but Gaby scoffed and walked away.

She waved to him, but her back was still turned. "Yeah, see you then."  
_____________________________

That unfortunate exchange led to Gaby sitting at her desk waiting for Illya to arrive. She was anxiously fiddling with whatever auto part was on her desk. A gaudy necklace was shoved in her pocket from Alexander.

"Ms. Teller!" She was greeted by Illya.

She got up with a sigh. "If you're going to be taking me out, you might as well call me Gaby," she said with a grimace.

"Alright then, Gaby," his Russian accent distorted her name, "shall we go?"

She gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Sure."  
_____________________________________

Gaby and Illya sat in a quaint cafe unnerving silence, sipping their respective drinks. This was not a good idea.

The disgruntled mechanic put down her coffee. "Why did you ask me out?" Gaby was annoyed by the awkward silence.

The man choked on his chai tea before answering. "So I could apologize."

"But that's not all, is it?" She inquisitively looked at him while finishing the last of her coffee. She could spot the tips of his ears turning pink.

He stayed silent, suddenly become more interested in his teacup.

"I won't judge, come on."

"большой," he breathed out. "My friend told me to ask you again."

There we go. Gaby had hit the jackpot.

"I had told him about our conflict, and he suggested that bother you until you accepted." he rubbed the wrinkles out of his forehead.

"Is this the same friend who kissed my hand?"

He nodded. "His name is Napoleon."

Gaby took a deep breath. "You and Napoleon two seem to be very different, so I would stick to making your own decisions from now on."

"I'll keep that in mind." His face scrunched up slightly while watching Gaby gather her belongings. "Wait."

Gaby raised an eyebrow at his reaction but still got up.

"I would like to take you out." 

Gaby froze. 

Illya continued, "I do feel bad about upsetting you."

Gaby stared Illya down and gave him a grimace.

'We can do anything that you want."

Gaby slightly perked up at this. She sat down. "I'll tell you what," she started, deciding to throw caution to the wind, "you are going to take me out dancing."

The color left Illya's face.

"Dancing is no fun when you don't have a partner, and I haven't had a partner in a long while." She grabbed a napkin and scribbled down her address and phone number. "I'll forgive you then, and you can be on your merry way. Pick me up Friday night, yeah?"

Illya looked warily at the napkin she was offering him and hesitantly took it. "Okay." 

Gaby gave Illya a genuine smile and left him in the cafe.


	4. Drunk In Love

Clubs were not Illya's scene. Was it obvious from the way he was standing stiffly on the dancefloor? Is it how he hasn't had a single alcoholic drink? Whatever it was, Gaby decided to do something about it.

"Illya," Gaby caught his attention and grasped his hands, "Dance with me?" 

His serious tone had not changed even while bright lights blinded him and people danced around him. He glanced at her more-than-tipsy state and began walking around her. "I am going to go sit down."

The mechanic was not going to be left alone that easily. Her grip on the Russian was stronger than he expected, and she pulled him closer.

The disgruntled man let himself be pulled into a Gaby. They swayed together against the upbeat Ariana Grande music. They stood out like sore thumbs, but Gaby was content listening to Illya's heartbeat. 

Eventually, Gaby tore herself away from his muscular chest. She placed her small hands over his large ones and made them move to the music.

Illya rolled his eyes, but anyone could see his crooked smile gracing his lips. They were in another world against the energy of the surrounding environment.

Gaby continued her motions with Illya but unexpectedly slapped him. Illya was shocked and shot her a dirty look.

"Sorry." She innocently continued with the hand motions and looked up at him. She began lip-syncing to trashy pop and clapping with his hands to the beat of the music.

The Russian's stern nature was broken by this small woman. The smile on his face was replaced with a scowl once Gaby slapped him at the end of the song.

"Don't make me put you over my knee," he warned.

"Is that an offer?" Sober Gaby would be dying at her forward remarks.

Illya's eyes widened at her inappropriate comment. "You need to sit down." He grabbed her wrist and dragged her to a sitting space.

"What? Why?" Gaby couldn't tell if his red face was because of the lights.

"You are being irrational and inappropriate." He forcefully sat her down on a decorative chair. "I'm going to get you a drink."

Gaby was excited at the prospect of more alcohol and watched Illya as he went to the bar. 

Illya grabbed water for himself and Gaby and thanked the bartender. He made his way through the crowd to where had left Gaby.

He saw her slouched figure in the chair and let out a sigh of relief. As he got closer, he realized she was asleep.

Блядь.  
___________________  
Illya was going home. That was what he wanted all night, but he had to carry his passed-out drunk companion with him as well.

Gaby's keys had disappeared, and he wasn't going to leave her at the club in such a vulnerable state. He did what any gentleman would do.

Illya paused to adjust the girl on his back and breathed out a string of Russian curses. He was able to effortlessly carry her due to her small size.

As he walked the remaining blocks to his apartment, Illya let his mind wander to the events of the night, Gaby's firm grip on his hands, their awkward slow dance, and how close they had been.

Illya shook his head to clear his mind of distractions and focused on getting the woman to his home.  
__________________________  
Illya entered his residence and gently placed Gaby on his couch and took in the scene before him.

His drunk date was currently sleeping on his couch. She was still wearing her dress and heels. Gaby's dress rode up her thighs while he had carried her the many blocks home and was showing off her purple, lacy panties.

О Боже. Illya quickly averted his eyes and contemplated the situation while looking at the floor.

After a moment of listening to Gaby breathe, Illya figured out a plan.

Illya would let Gaby have his bed, and he would, instead, sleep on the couch. He would remove her heels and pull her dress down before putting her to bed. A glass of water and some aspirin would be available for inevitable sickness the next day.

Illya put his plan into action and picked up Gaby. Her head was nestled into his neck, and her legs wrapped around his waist. 

The Russian giant quietly made his way to his bedroom. He settled her onto his mattress and pulled down her dress while avoiding looking at her. Her heels came off next. Soon, she was tucked into Illya's bed.

Illya smiled while he gazed at the spectacle in front of him. He pushed her bangs out of her face and let his hand stay there.

"Good night, little chop shop girl."

Illya withdrew his hand and headed in the direction of the bathroom to wash the night's events off of him. Before he could leave Gaby's side, she reached for his hand. He hesitantly nudged her hand away.

Illya found himself humming along to an Ariana Grande song in the shower. If Solo found out about anything out of this night, Cowboy would never let him hear the end of it.


	5. Nobody Stacks Up to You

Gaby had been in this position before.

Waking up in a stranger's bed with little to no memory was not uncommon for her, but being fully clothed was.

Gaby sat up and surveyed her surroundings. Russian novels filled the bookshelves packed into a small apartment. Dread began building up in her stomach. Pictures were on display on the man's nightstand. She examined one of the pictures to see who she came home with.

In the picture, there was a little boy and his mother. The boy had a toothy smile on his face while gripping tightly onto his mother. Gaby studied the picture in hopes of regaining some memory of the night before.

"Oh Scheiße. Oh verdammt. Ich bin tot."

Illya Kuryakin appeared in the doorway after hearing her German curses. He was holding a spatula and wearing an apron. 

Gaby turned to look at him slowly with exasperation. "Did we-"  
she stammered. "I can't-" She seemed to give up on speaking after many unsuccessful attempts.

"No, we didn't. I have no idea where your keys went so I just brought you here." He gave her a small smile. "I did enjoy myself last night, though. Perhaps, it is better if we get to know each other more intimately."

Gaby returned his smile with a frown and quickly got up. "Where are my shoes?" She asked impatiently. 

"Drink some water, and I might tell you." His grin never wavering.

She scoffed in reply and looked away. 

"If you sit down and eat pancakes, I'll tell you where your purse is, too."

She finally met his gaze with angry eyes. "What if I don't like pancakes?"

She saw his lips twitch before answering. " I will make you another meal, then."

Gaby huffed and then proceeded to walk out of his bedroom. She quickly studied the sitting room and kitchen before easily spotting her heels and purse. 

She gave him a smug look before saying, "Loving your hiding spots, Illya."

Her heels were quickly on her sore feet, and she rummaged through her purse before pulling out a set of keys. Her smile widened as she looked at Illya. 

The man was glaring at her keys with a stern look and tapping his upper arm. He avoided her mocking eyes and fled into the kitchen.

Gaby was heading for the door until she caught sight of the scene in front of her.

Illya had a neat stack of pancakes in front of him and had another pile arranged for a person across from him. His gaze avoiding Gaby, and his hand was slightly trembling.

Gaby stopped herself from reaching towards the doorknob. She abandoned her purse near the door and went into the kitchen. She sat across from Illya.

"Gaby?"

She ignored his question and poured some syrup on her pancakes. Gaby began eating the pancakes under his confused gaze.

"Gaby?"

"What?" She napped. "You wanted me to eat, and I am. Don't let the pancakes get cold." She gestured to his pancakes.

Illya gawked at her for a few more moments before occupying himself with his pancakes.   
___________________________  
"I'm going to leave this time, so don't expect any more pity pancakes," Gaby declared. 

"Mhm," Illya replied, "I knew you couldn't resist my pancakes."

He followed Gaby to the door to say goodbye. "I did have a good time last night."

Gaby answered, but she seemed distracted. "Yeah..." She kept shifting her gaze between his eyes and lips. "Me too."

Illya got closer to her until their faces were centimeters apart. 

She could feel his hand on the small of her back.

Their lips were brushing.

"Illya!" A familiar voice interrupted.

Illya was going to murder Napoleon Solo.

Gaby whispered to Illya before she pushed him away. "Call me."

Gaby gave Illya a pitying look and scurried off before Napoleon could claim her as a victim of his mockery.

"It was just coffee, Peril. I thought you were too much of a gentleman to take her home with you." Napoleon looked at Illya with surprise.

"Cowboy," Illya growled through gritted teeth, "leave before I kill you." He wasn't kidding.


	6. Call Me Maybe

Gaby's cheeks warmed at the thought of Illya. His strong chest, blonde hair, heavy accent, his blue eyes, and even his pancakes crossed her mind daily. Their almost-kiss was the most recent addition to the list.

"This is not good." Gaby was, coincidentally, working on Illya's car when she sat up in exasperation. She barely even knows the man!

Yet, he was the only thing she could focus on.

Gaby absentmindedly threw away flowers. She could not escape from Illya. 

There were so many things to hate about him. He was hot-headed, stern, and so fucking sexy. 

And he never called.

Days passed. There was still no word from the Russian. 

Gaby examined her work on Illya's car. It was perfect, of course, but she meticulously searched for a reason not to contact Illya.

Her efforts proved futile, and soon she was leaving him a voicemail.

Gaby barely slept in the days before he came to pick up his car. Her mind was plagued by the stupid man. She had never felt the kinds of furious emotions that Illya evoked in her. The strong, freedom-oriented girl had been reduced to a ball of nerves.

Gaby was elbow deep in the hood of a car when he arrived.

Her ears perked up at the muffled voice of the Russian, but she forced the rest of her body to stay focused on the task at hand. She kept her body in position when she heard heavy footsteps approach her. 

"You did a good job on the car, Gaby," Illya said to the back of Gaby's head.

Gaby denied herself the privilege of seeing the Russian man. "Of course I did." She made it clear of her disdain for him without looking at him.

"How are you?" Illya asked, his signature small smile ghosting his lips.

Gaby removed herself from the car and abruptly whirled around. "When a pretty girl almost kisses you and tells you to call, you should probably call," Gaby spat at him venomously.

He sighed. "I wanted to call." His fists were flexing at his side.

"Why didn't you?" Gaby should stop putting her relationships on display at the shop. 

Illya remained silent.

Gaby scoffed. She returned furiously to her work and listened as Illya walked away. Mere seconds passed before she was interrupted.

Bzzt

Gaby looked up at the sound of vibrations.

Bzzt

Her phone was ringing.

Bzzt

Gaby reluctantly left her station for the second time that day and answered. "Hello?" She pinched the bring of her nose.

A familiar Russian accent came through, "Hello? I'm looking for a Miss Gaby Teller."

"Oh mein Gott," Gaby sighed. She indulged in his little game. "This is she."

Illya continued, "I would like to invite her to dinner."

"Illya..." Gaby said in exasperation.

"I happen to be a very amazing cook, and I think she would be lucky to taste my art." The last phrase came from behind Gaby.

Gaby turned around to face Illya. He was holding his phone to his ear and was faintly smiling. Shocked, she put a hand over her mouth and furrowed her brows. "I think that she would prefer to eat by herself," she challenged.

"What if he can make her favorite food?" Illya countered as he began slowly walking toward her. An amused look had taken over her face.

"Gaby may be inclined to accept that offer, then." A small smile began peeking out from underneath her hand.

"Good." He was standing over her smugly smiling. "I would be glad to cook for her."

"Good," she mimicked. She smiled up at him and hung up.

"Am I forgiven?" Illya got closer to her. 

"Maybe," Gaby said teasingly, "I may just need a little more convincing."

"Oh?" His icy blue eyes brightened. He leaned down to her height.

"Mhm..." Gaby stood on her toes to meet Illya.

"All turned on now?" A man said.

Gaby quickly pushed Illya away and focused on the car once again.

"Again? You can never get the timing right, Peril." Napoleon Solo remarked in an amused fashion. "If he isn't fulfilling your needs, Gaby, I'm always available."

Illya growled something Russian at him. Napoleon scowled at his words. Napoleon returned his comment with some Russian words of his own and Illya's face soured. 

Gaby peered over her shoulder and watched Illya force Napoleon into his fixed car. A small giggle escaped her lips at the sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind reviews! :)


	7. Let's Turn Up The Volume

Gaby had voluntarily given up once in her lifetime. Her mother tried to teach her a few basic meals when Gaby was a teenager, but almost everything went wrong. She exploded eggs, accidentally threw away the pasta, and set fire to chicken. Out of embarrassment, Gaby swore off cooking for the rest of her life. After Gaby's parents passed, she lived on a diet of takeout and occasional leftovers from her neighbors. 

This was unfamiliar territory. Gaby observed Illya with a scrutinizing eye while he made her a homemade meal. His movements were quick and precise, and he seemed very focused. Gaby considered bugging him for the fun of it while sipping some wine he had set out for her.

After scanning the room for entertainment, Gaby was struck with an idea. A record player was sitting in a corner of the living room. After a hunt for a record, Gaby was able to make music.

A Russian song played at a very loud volume thanks to Gaby. The girl was stepping in rhythm around the living room. The steps had evolved into her dancing around the apartment carefully as to not spill her wine. 

Gaby set her sights on Illya and began dancing over to him. She tapped a finger on his back to get his attention. After a glance back, Illya set down his cooking tools and turned to meet her. "Yes?" He leaned back against the counter. 

"Dance with me," Gaby didn't try to hide the mischievous tone in her voice.

"Ah," Illya pretended to consider, "I don't think so. I have to cook a meal." He gave her a pitying smile.

"Hm. Suit yourself." The rejection didn't stop Gaby from dancing in Illya's workspace. He peered at her while finishing the sauce for the dish. A smirk crept onto his face and refused to leave.

Gaby continued her little party while Illya finished the dish. He had to drag her into her seat and turn off the music before settling down. He brought out two plates of rouladen, Gaby's favorite food, and bread dumplings.

Illya and Gaby ate their meals while maintaining a playful conversation. After they devoured the food and emptied the wine bottle, Illya and Gaby were left happily staring at each other. 

"You are a very good cook," Gaby said.

"Thank you," Illya replied, "my mother taught me."

Gaby hummed in response.

They were left in silence until Illya stood up. He held out his hand as an invitation. A questioning look crossed Gaby's face, but she took it anyway. He gently pulled her to his couch and sat her down. 

"What are you doing?" She asked.

Illya stayed silent. He made his way to the record player and fiddled with it until more Russian music was produced. He let the music run for a moment until Illya began tapping his foot rhythmically.

"Illya?"

Still, Illya stayed silent and continued with his movements. Unexpectedly, Illya burst into dance. It wasn't bad by any means, but it was unusual seeing his stoic manner broken.

Gaby laughed at her Russian partner. A hand was placed onto the couch to keep herself from falling over as she giggled.

Illya continued with his shuffling while slowly making his way to Gaby. She weakly tried to reject him, but she was pulled to her feet and began dancing with him.

They danced ridiculously until they couldn't dance anymore. They collapsed onto the couch in a fit of giggles.

Gaby's cheeks hurt from the grin that marked her face. Her cheeks were flushed from the dancing and the interlocking of Gaby's and Illya's hands.

After calming her heart and breath, Gaby glanced over to Illya and saw his pale face was red.

Gaby wasn't sure if it was the wine in her system or just her desire for him, but she found herself straddling Illya and holding his flushed face in her hands.

"Gaby..." Illya breathed out.

"I'm not letting this one get away from me," Gaby managed to get out before kissing him. 

She felt him stiffen before relaxing into the kiss. His lips were soft and tasted like rouladen, but Gaby didn't mind. His hands were gently holding the small of her back while her hands were busy running through his hair. Her floral perfume and his cologne mixed in the air.

Gaby separated from him to take desperate, deep breaths while staring into his eyes, misty with want. Her hands crept to Illya's chest to slowly unbutton his shirt while he explored her back to find the zipper for her dress.

"That was worth the wait," She chuckled breathlessly before returning to Illya's lips.


	8. Your Love Is Like Vodka. You Were Worth The Chase.

Gaby had been in this situation before, but this time she knew what happened. She was naked in a familiar bed with a familiar giant next to her. Illya Kuryakin was sitting up in bed next to her reading one of his many Russian books.

He peered around his book at Gaby's minor movement and gave her a warm smile. "Good morning." His gaze returned to his book after the small interaction. 

Gaby was not one to be outdone by some book. She silently crept her hands to his book and pulled it away from him. She abruptly closed it and threw it to be among their discarded clothes on the floor.

Illya scoffed at her in frustration. He began to retrieve the book but was stopped by Gaby. She took his arm and pressed it to her naked chest. He averted his eyes and used his free hand to cover his rosy cheeks. "You're telling me that you would rather read your book than stay in bed with me?"

Illya was pulled back into bed with no protest. 

"You are too good to be true," Gaby confessed while eyeing Illya in all of his glory.

Illya's face scrunched slightly. "Hm? Why is that?"

Gaby fell back into the bed. "I've never really been in a good relationship." 

"Well," Illya assured her, "I better make this the best then." Illya brushed Gaby's misplaced hair back into place with his hand. Gaby leaned into his touch and pressed his hand to her cheek.

"You don't have a lot of competition," Gaby chuckled.

Illya took this seriously. He stared into Gaby's warm brown eyes solemnly. As he took his hand back, he brought her's with him. With small kisses up her arm accompanying each word, Illya said, "I'm planning to treat you well."

Gaby let a smile grace her lips. "Really?" An idea had struck. "Why don't you show me how well you can treat me?"

Illya's eyes darkened. "Как пожелаешь, поруби магазинную девчонку."  
__________________________________

Dating Illya was different. Gaby decided it was a good different. He would listen to her as much as she needed. When Gaby woke up at night and wandered around his apartment, Illya would track her down and lull her back to sleep. He would tell her when she was wrong. Illya wanted the best for Gaby. It was unusual being cared for like that, but it still made her feel nice inside.

Illya had his fair share of troubles. Gaby calmed him down when he was getting tense. She held his clenched fists while whispering to him in German. She listened to him when he woke up spouting Russian. She stayed up late at night examining his sketches for potential buildings and improving them. She accepted him for his scars, physical and mental. 

Gaby made sure he did not know about her past with Alexander Vinciguerra. That's all it was, a past. Illya had experience with the man and held him in low regard. She kept Alexander's 'treats' a secret. She felt bad about it but convinced herself that it was best. 

She hoped it was best.  
__________________________________

Gaby and Illya's relationship grew with each passing week. Weeks eventually turned into months, and Gaby was finally content with her life. Alexander had stopped sending her gifts, and Gaby was left alone with her boyfriend.

Six months into the relationship, Gaby had suggested the prospect of them moving into together. Illya responded by immediately packing her things and making room for her in his apartment. Gaby was too shocked to maintain her independent image and simply let it happen. At the end of the day, she felt at home in their shared bed and enjoyed coming home to homecooked meals.

For the first time in years, Gaby celebrated Christmas happily. Wine and takeout were replaced by wine and Illya's cooking. Under a miniature Christmas tree, Neatly wrapped presents contrasted with Gaby's messily enclosed presents.

At eight months, his mother visited from Russia. For the first time, Gaby tried to help Illya cook and clean the apartment. She put on an itchy dress that Illya picked out for her and put in dangly earrings. 

His mother was the exact opposite of Illya. She was a short woman who was always smiling. She greeted Gaby with a hug and talked with an even heavier Russian accent than Illya. Gaby could only smile and nod to the passionate woman. The love that the woman radiated was astounding to Gaby. 

While Illya did the dishes, Mrs. Kuryakin pulled Gaby away. "Он любит тебя. You make him so happy. Please return that love." Gaby nodded slowly while Illya's mother went to her son.

Gaby dug around her personal belongings after meeting his mother and pulled out photos from her childhood. She described her parents in great detail to Illya. She displayed pictures from when she was a child to Illya and pointed out important moments in her life. He listened intently and thoughtfully. That was as close as Illya was ever going to get her parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kind reviews!


	9. I Just Wanted To Be Perfect

Illya visited Gaby at work often. He would come by during his lunch break. He dragged her to get food when she skipped lunch or brought her coffee when he knew she hadn't slept well.

Illya had stopped by like any normal Friday. He brought her a sandwich and water so she could make it through the rest of the day. He coaxed her out from under the car and made her eat. 

Lunch passed like any other. Gaby pressed a quick kiss onto Illya's lips before disappearing under the car again, and Illya finished his lunch before sitting at Gaby's desk and playing chess until he had to leave. Gaby smiled to herself under the car. She enjoyed the routine they developed.

"I'm looking for Gaby Teller?" A man announced.

Illya looked up while Gaby rolled out of the car. Illya's eyes grew wide, and his fist clenched.

Gaby noticed Illya's reaction first and furrowed her brows. She studied the shop to find the cause.

_Nein._

_Wieso er?_

Gaby gaped at the man as he walked toward her. He smirked at her sitting figure and held out his hand as an invitation to stand. Gaby stared at his outstretched hand.

The man withdrew his hand and casually strolled around Gaby's workspace, ignoring the glares he was getting from Illya. "I've missed you, Gaby."

Gaby inhaled painfully, "What do you want, Alexander?" Gaby stared at the floor rather than looking at Illya or Alexander.

"I just came to check on you! You didn't respond to any of my gifts!" Alexander Vinciguerra fiddled innocently with Gaby's belongings and refused to acknowledge the shaking Russian glaring daggers at him. "Victoria was getting a little suspicious, so I had to stop, but I never stopped missing you." He stopped in front of her and squatted down to her level. His hand reached out to stroke Gaby's hair, but she recoiled.

"I miss having your pert, little body around. I think being with me is your destiny," Alexander's face was stuck in a sickening smile. "I'm going to leave Victoria, and we can be together." Gaby felt her world crumble around her. 

Illya was never going to forgive her. Gaby forced her gaze in his direction. Illya was sitting at her desk glaring viciously at the wall in front of him. His finger was tapping aggressively against his crossed upper arm.

"Why don't you and I get out of here and have some fun? Gaby?" Alexander had no idea what trouble he had gotten into.

Illya snapped. He got out of the seat so violently, the chair slammed into the concrete. He stormed over there and wrenched Alexander away from Gaby. He stood over Alexander with murder in his eyes.

Gaby had scrambled to her feet and was trying to stop Illya. "Illya," she said in a panic, "I'm fine."

Illya was not listening. He had dragged Alexander up by his collar and had him pinned against the wall. He growling in Russian. Gaby had never seen him like this.

"Illya!" Alexander seemed fine with the situation. "I haven't seen you in a while, buddy." The friendly remark had incensed Illya even more. 

Alexander was turning red under Illya's grip, and his eyes widened when Illya's fist pulled back. With a menacing crack, Illya's fist connected to Alexander's face. Alexander's arms reached out to stop him, but Illya wouldn't stop.

"Illya!" Gaby screamed. Her voice cracked.

Illya paused in his assault. His fist shook before dropping. Alexander went tumbling to the floor. 

Gaby brought her hands to Illya's face and tried to bring his gaze down to her. His eyes were fraught with anger and betrayal. He avoided her stare and gently removed her hands as if afraid of hurting her.

Illya stared off into space for a while before gathering his things. His hands were trembling, but his face was showed no emotion. Illya simply left the shop as calmly as he could.

Gaby couldn't bring herself to follow him. She glared for a moment at Alexander who was regaining his composure and breath. She glanced at the desk where Illya had sat mere moments ago. Gaby couldn't take it. The eyes of her coworkers and being in the presence of Alexander was too much.

So she ran.

________________________

Gaby ran through the streets with tears blurring her vision. The wind chilled her, but she just ran harder. She arrived outside the apartment and fumbled with her keys before rushing inside. She searched each room for Illya but to no avail. He was at work. 

Gaby stripped herself of her shoes and coveralls before climbing into bed. Blankets enveloped her small figure but she still shivered. Fat tears and ugly sobs escaped her body while she waited for Illya to come home. Shame, loneliness, and hate flooded through her body.

She waited for an hour. She waited for four hours. She skipped dinner and waited. For the first time since moving in with him, she didn't sleep. Gaby refused to eat. She refused to do anything but pace around the apartment and cry.

A feeling was eating away inside. Would he come back? Would he still love her? Gaby could not stand being alone with herself. She ruined the only good thing to appear in the last ten years of her life.

The only thing that kept Gaby sane was the occasional footsteps outside her door.

Gaby had almost given up when she heard the door to the apartment open. She must not have locked it.

She hid out of shame behind the door to the bedroom. She peered cautiously around the door, and her face fell at what she saw. 

Napoleon Solo was standing in the doorway studying the apartment. Gaby's mind leaped to the conclusion that he was there to collect Illya's possessions and/or kick her out. 

Gaby hid fully behind the door to avoid his stare. Tears had begun to fall again.

"Peril," Napoleon grumbled, "if I dragged you here for no reason, I might have a meltdown of my own."

Illya hesitantly walked through the entrance. "Is she here?" His Russian voice rang out through the apartment and shook Gaby.

"Find out for yourself," Napoleon sighed, "I'm out of here."

Gaby listened intently after she heard Napoleon leave but was met with silence. Her heart ached, but she was too scared to rouse the strong inside of her and face Illya.

The silence seemed to last for eternity until Illya spoke, "Gaby?"

Gaby opened her mouth, but nothing but a squeak came out. Gaby shuffled away from the door and onto the bed.

It was enough to get the man's attention as she heard heavy footsteps heading toward her. He paused at the doorway. Illya gently pushed the door open and searched the dark room. 

His intent gaze softened at the sight of the shadowy figure on the bed. He searched for the light switch on the wall, and the lights flashed on.

Gaby was sure she looked awful. She hadn't slept for two days. She felt terrible. Hunger was gnawing at her, and she was exhausted. Her eyes hadn't dried from crying minutes ago. A sad smile was all she could conjure while returning Illya's gaze.

Illya wasn't looking his best either. His hair was untidy, unlike his organized self. His knuckles were bruised. His eyes were red and followed by bags under his eyes. His face saddened at the sight of her.

Gaby was brave enough to break the silence. "Illya..."

At her words, Illya rushed towards her. He gathered the broken woman in his arms and hugged her. His warm embrace stilled the constant shiver that had plagued Gaby. Gaby could feel wetness on his cheeks soaking into her shirt. 

Illya suddenly tore himself away from her and stared at Gaby. He brushed away a stray tear before kissing her tear-stained cheeks. His kisses traveled lower until he reached her neck. Gaby pulled him into bed with her. Illya murmured continuously in Russian. She could interpret small amounts from short lessons he had given her a few months back.

_I love you._

_I'm sorry._

Gaby closed her eyes to shake off bad thoughts that were invading her mind. She tried to enjoy the moment, but the feeling of dread would not leave her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh! :(


	10. Please (Don't Leave Me)

Gaby woke from a dreamless sleep. A wave of negative emotion flooded over her. The bed was cold next to her. 

Gaby dragged herself out of bed and felt her body scream as the cold air hit her. She crept through the room to grab clean clothes. She was lightheaded but pushed through it to get to the bathroom. Gaby turned at the doorway to study the empty bed

The man that had attacked Alexander was nowhere in sight. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Blinking them away, Gaby entered the bathroom without closing the door. She prayed that she would find him humming over pancakes.

The sunlight streaming through the window was distorted by her emotional state. Gaby stared at her reflection and grimaced. Her eyes had been the obvious victim of crying and exhaustion. She felt weak and that translated into her body. After a cold shower, Gaby felt weirdly comforted by leaning onto the counter and staring into the sink.

She remained in her catatonic state for what felt like hours. "Illya?" Her voice was unsteady.

No response.

Gaby remained in the bathroom after getting dressed debating whether or not she should jump out of the small window. The growl of her stomach was enough to force the small woman into the kitchen.

Illya was not there.

Gaby took a seat at their small table. She fidgeted in anticipation. She decided that cereal was more enjoyable than starving and set out on her quest to procure food.

"Are you here?" Gaby croaked out loudly while

No noises followed. Gaby tried to shrug it off. She brought her fresh bowl of Raisin Bran to the small table and sat down. She took a small bite. It wasn't satisfying, but it was enough.

"Illya?" Gaby was getting concerned. She forgot her bowl of cereal and searched the space for him. He was not there. Gaby searched for her phone. Illya's clothes were gone and replaced with the faint scent of his cologne. Gaby raced through her apartment in a panic. In her hurry, she barely caught sight of a small note sitting on her kitchen counter.

Barely.

Gaby narrowed her eyes at the paper. She knew what was in it but allowed herself to have hope. The note contained the neat, familiar scrawl of Illya.

_ Gaby, _

_ I'm leaving. _

_ Napoleon will get my stuff. _

_ Don't find me. _

_ Я люблю вас. _

_ Illya. _

The hunger Gaby felt vanished. "What?" Her voice came out as a whisper.

_ He's breaking up with you _

"Was? Du verlässt mich?" Gaby's previously weak voice came out as a hiss. She said this as if the note could hear her. "Just because of a stupid fling years ago?"

"I didn't love him!" Gaby ignored the tears as they fell. "ich liebe dich! I regret not telling you about Alexander, but, please, don't leave me." Her strong-willed personality fell to reveal vulnerability. The silence only fueled her furiousity.

The anger welling up in Gaby accumulated in a whisper. "Bullshit." As her tears ruined the note, Gaby gripped it tighter. "Die Kuhscheiße," Gaby whispered, barely audible. "Please..." She received no response from the paper. Gaby ripped the paper into small pieces. The ruined words still broke her heart. Gaby glared at the document. How can such a small thing carry something so heavy?

_ You ruined it. _

Gaby couldn't look at torn pieces of paper littering her floor. She could only be reminded of her mistakes. Her emotions boiled over when she screamed. "No!"

It was over.

__________________________________

Monday slowly came to be. Gaby's mind was left overcrowded from the weekend. Tears streamed endlessly down her face, but she had to go to work. She ignored the shreds of paper as she walked out the door.

Prying eyes drilled into her when she entered. Taking a deep breath and standing up tall, Gaby headed over to her station and worked. She worked until her hands burned. The burning took her mind off of her emotional pain. When Gaby left, she drank until she had no choice but to pass out from the alcohol.

That's how life was. Takeout containers and dirty laundry cluttered the previously neat apartment. Gaby felt dreadful, either from the hangover or from her heart. Illya still hadn't gotten his stuff. It gave Gaby a small bit of hope that was drowned out by her tears.

Illya never left her mind. She wanted to love him, but he wouldn't let her.

__________________________________

Illya showed up to worked grouchier than usual. Napoleon Solo wasn't going to let his companion bring him down at both work and his apartment. He had been staying at Napoleon's place for a few days. Napoleon was barely there anyway. He preferred to be in random women's beds than his own. Solo was still pissed when he came home to a half-destroyed apartment. Illya had another episode.

After showing up in his office uninvited, Solo cut straight to the chase. "You're so stupid."

"Сука," Illya said calmly while still focusing on his work. "I'll pay you for the furniture."

"I mean," Napoleon said while wandering around Illya's office, "How could you break up with her?"

Illya's head shot up and he inhaled sharply.

"She was perfect for you, Peril." Curiosity was present on Napoleon's face. "You were even planning to propose." Napoleon pursed his lips as he saw Illya abruptly stand and walk toward him.

"Listen, Cowboy," Illya was getting dangerously close to Napoleon, "you are delusional."

"Here's the thing, Peril," Napoleon pulled out a velvety box, "I don't think I am." He opened it and examined the beautiful ring that was inside. "This could not have been cheap, my Russian friend." Napoleon's signature smirk graced his lips.

"Теперь послушай, ты, абсолютный член мужчины," Illya spoke in quick Russian. Before Illya could get his hands on Solo, the ring had been thrown towards the tall man. He caught it without flinching and held a steady glare on Napoleon.

"Why?" Napoleon genuinely asked. He may be an ass, but Solo was one of Illya's only friends.

Illya sat defeatedly back down at his desk. He placed the ring into his pocket. His hands ran through his hair. "I'm not good for her."

"And you were good for her for a year before this?"

Illya looked away before carefully responding. "I had an episode."

Napoleon was surprised by this. "Who?"

"Alexander Vinciguerra."

Napoleon tilted his head. "How does that relate to Gaby?"

"He's her ex."

"Are you kidding me?" Napoleon was shocked. "I've seen the way Alexander treats women. Gaby is better than that."

Illya sighed before smoothing out the wrinkles on his forehead. "It's over now. She probably hates me." 

Napoleon was struck with pity. He had never seen Illya so vulnerable. As he left to go flirt with the new secretary, Napoleon was struck with an idea. Did Waverly need him for the rest of the day?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	11. Womanizer

Gaby was exhausted and hungry. She stayed late at work and hadn't slept the night before. The last thing she wanted to see when she entered her apartment was her ex-boyfriend's best friend sitting on the couch.

"Solo?" In her confusion, Gaby managed to miss the fact that her apartment was spotless.

"Ah," Napoleon looked up from his seat, "I was wondering when you were going to arrive."

"Was zum Teufel?" Words managed to fall out of her mouth while she stood frozen in the doorway.

Napoleon leisurely walked towards Gaby and closed the door behind her. "I took the liberty of cleaning up if that's okay." He urged Gaby to sit down in the kitchen and was met with, surprisingly, no resistance. 

Solo sat across from Gaby, but before either one of them could speak, a timer went off. Solo got up and went to tend to something cooking in the oven. 

Gaby buried her face in her hands and reviewed the situation in her head. Napoleon Solo broke into her home and was playing chef in her kitchen. Great. 

Napoleon returned with two servings of food and wine. He poured Gaby a glass. She stared curiously at the intruder while sipping her wine. After the drink coated her mouth and glided down her throat, she pursed her lips. That was not her wine. She could taste the money it cost on her tongue. By the time he finally sat down, Gaby had finished the glass.

Gaby stared at the dish in front of her with disgust. "What's this? It smells like feet." She neglected her food to refill her glass.

"Eat," Napoleon demanded while watching her carefully.

She scowled before bringing a forkful of the mysterious food to her lips. After taking a small bite, Gaby was surprised at the quality of the meal. "Where did you get the ingredients for this?"

"I went grocery shopping." His inquisitive gaze on her never faltered.

Gaby ate the delicious food in uncomfortable silence while taking long sips of wine to ease the situation. After his dish was devoured, Napoleon cleared his throat. Gaby crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. Napoleon leaned forward and spoke. "You are going to get back together with Illya."

Gaby looked as if she was going to vomit. "No." She dragged Napoleon up by the sleeve of his expensive suit jacket and was ready to throw him out.

"Hear me out," Napoleon reasoned. Gaby paused before hauling him out anyway. Napoleon was left with almost no options until a small detail came to his mind.

"He was going to propose."

Gaby was left stunned. Napoleon took the opportunity to remove herself from her grip and reenter her apartment. After taking a deep breath, Gaby shook herself back to reality. "How is that supposed to change anything?" She refused to look at the smug face of Solo.

"He still loves you." Napoleon wasn't lying. They both knew it.

"And?"

"He ashamed and afraid of hurting you. He thinks he's doing a good thing by pushing you away." Gaby scoffed at that, folding her arms. The serious look disguising Napoleon's usual demeanor straightened her up, however. "If you loved him, you would recognize that and fight him on it."

Gaby remained surprisingly calm, a solemn look masking her true emotions. Her hands pressed on both sides of her head as if to steady her mind. It started as a whisper, but her answer grew into a shaky shout. "Okay." She closed her eyes. "Okay."

Napoleon rewarded her with a small but sincere smile. "Okay," he echoed.

Napoleon had a plan. It might have been a crazy plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. He sat Gaby down at her table while she ate and displayed his system.

Step One. Gaby would clean herself up and head out to find a ring. A ring for a certain man. 

Step Two. Gaby would dress in an outfit that Napoleon graciously picked out for her.

Step Three. Napoleon would call Gaby when Illya came back from his lunch break.

Step Four. Gaby would take a taxi to Illya's workplace, and make her way to his office.

Step Five. Gaby would propose, and Illya would accept. They would make a billion babies.

"In your dreams."

Napoleon frowned. "What if I take out the babies?"

Gaby scoffed. "Why do I have to propose to him?"

"He needs to know that you're in it for the long run."

Gaby was unsatisfied with that. "Will he not see me wanting to get back together as a sign of commitment?"

Napoleon was defeated. "Marriage is the ultimate sign of love."

"Are you saying that I don't love Illya?" Gaby challenged.

"Fine," Napoleon muttered, "I could be in between the legs of a busty blonde right now rather than helping you save your relationship. If you have any better ideas, do tell."

"I find him and try to get back together with him," Gaby explained easily, a victorious smile appearing.

"When you asked him to stay with you last time, how did that work out?" Her smile tensed.

Gaby's eyes narrowed. He had a point, but it was still a sensitive subject. "Hündin."

"Thanks."

Gaby eyed the man sitting across from her suspiciously. Questions rushed through her mind, and emotions were racing around her head. "Don't you have to go to seduce some girl?"

Solo hummed in response. "Consider it." He picked up his neatly folded suit jacket and put it on. Gaby glared at his back as he confidently walked away.

Napoleon thought about his proposal as he walked away. The holes Gaby was burning into his back were of little importance. He planted an idea in Gaby. He had no choice but to hope she went through with it.

__________________________________

Gaby howled in frustration as soon as she got home. Solo had some nerve suggesting that. Commitment took root in other things rather than marriage. She went straight for alcohol and let out another furious yell. Napoleon had replaced all of her drinks with a stupid note.

_ Gaby, _

_ I'm sorry, but your place reeked of booze when I arrived. I decided to get rid of the problem. _

_ Solo :) _

Gaby crushed the note in her palmed and threw it aggressively on the floor. Deciding that it wasn't worth going out into the night for, Gaby was left without her precious booze for the night. She would refill her stock after work tomorrow.

Gaby roamed around her apartment searching for a way to pass the sleepless night. She tripped over a Russian book that had been knocked from its place on a bookshelf. She grabbed it and sat down on a nearby chair to nurse her stubbed toe. She recognized the cover. It was a book Illya got her for Christmas. It taught simple Russian phrases and translations.

Gaby grimaced. A need to burn it had overtaken her, but she decided it was as good a time as any to get some Russian under her belt. Rather than spend all night studying her meet with Solo, Gaby spent it memorizing Russian phrases.


	12. Mistakes Have Been Made

Napoleon had shown up unexpectedly at Gaby's apartment and forced her to go out drinking with him. The scent of booze was present on him, and he was visibly distressed. Hypocrite. His usually tidy appearance was thrown off and wrinkles were forming on his forehead, so Gaby decided it was best not to question it. She was somewhat happy he had interrupted her day, but regret filled her body like blood as she watched him stagger around.

Solo had attempted to drive his car, but Gaby knew better than to let him drive. She snatched his keys and threatened to leave him behind if he didn't let her drive. He agreed but complained about it the entire car ride.

Gaby herself had decided to limit her alcohol. Solo was already wasted enough for both of them. She had never seen him lose his composure like this. She leaned on the bar and watched Solo for entertainment. His usually very successful flirting was resulting in drinks thrown into his already disheveled hair or slaps being delivered across his face. It was entertaining, sure, but Gaby felt a twinge of pity every time he was rejected.

After Napoleon tumbled back over to her, drenched in various drinks, Gaby finally decided to take him back to his place. Gaby balanced the man's weight on her petite form and paid for his tab. He was mumbling a song too close for comfort to her ear as she carried him to his car.

As she shoved him forcefully into his car, her pity for him decreased drastically. His little utterances turned into full-on belting of some stupid song. Gaby fished his keys out of his suit pocket slammed the door. Gaby enjoyed the night air cooling her body where she had supported her sweaty American friend. The muffled voice of Napoleon wailing some kind of love song interrupted her few seconds of relief.

Gaby entered the car and took a minute to familiarize herself with the vehicle. As soon as she felt adequately prepared to drive her friend home, she set out, hoping to make this trip a short one.

" _ So raw _ ," Solo whined musically, " _ so right, all night, alright. _ " Gaby tried to tune the man out but failed. " _ Oh yeah. _ " Gaby grimaced at his off-key voice.

As the car ride progressed, Gaby became more invested in his song. There was a story behind this. " _ You took me by the hand _ ," Napoleon sobbed, " _ Made me a man. _ " Oh my god. Gaby felt dirty listening to him.

She pulled into the parking lot of his complex and leaned her head against the steering wheel. Napoleon was on her last nerve. Muttering German curses, she sluggishly made her way to the back seat. Napoleon was sprawled on his stomach curled protectively around his suit jacket. His lament had died down some and was barely audible. She grabbed his arms and attempted to pull him out. The man made no effort to get up. He let his arm fall back to his side. After pulling him several more times to no avail, Gaby was fed up. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She screamed in defeat.

He could only manage a whisper, but it was enough.

Gaby's breath hitched at his response, and her heart stopped. Her problems were left forgotten as his problems consumed her. A feeling of dread began rising in her stomach. "What did you say?" 

Napoleon hoisted himself up and sat with his head in his hands. "She's pregnant." 

Silence followed. Gaby handled him gently as she removed him from the car. She kept a protective arm around him to make sure he wouldn't lose his balance and fall. The strong scent and dampness of alcohol and tears were ignored as she walked him up the stairs. She kept her eyes in front of her as she heard the gentle sobs of Napoleon into her shoulder.

She reached his apartment and fumbled for his keys. Napoleon relied on her petite form for support while she revealed his apartment. Along with many expensive pieces of furniture, a tall man was staring at her like he was a deer in headlights. He was in pajamas and was shuffling around the furniture to make enough room for his large form to sleep on the floor.

Gaby's hold on her drunk companion tightened. Her eyes narrowed. "Illya?" She forced emotions away and settled on a penetrating glare.

Illya Kuryakin breathed out curses, and he paused in his rearranging. His gaze fell to Solo. Illya straightened up and concealed his shock with a grave look. His jaw clenched.

"He came to the apartment drunk and made me go out with him." Illya's face twitched, but his gaze remained steady on his friend. Gaby softened. He was genuinely concerned for his friend. Gaby was struggling under the much larger man and needed assistance. In a quiet voice, Gaby spoke, "Can you help me?"

He nodded solemnly and walked over. She shifted Napoleon's weight onto Illya. Illya held Napoleon carefully in his arms but still whispered curses under his breath. The barely audible swears followed him into Napoleon's room. The faint ruffling of sheets could be heard as Gaby stared at her shoes. 

Deciding that she wasn't needed anymore, Gaby crept towards the door. She slowly opened the door and winced as it creaked loudly. She made the door close softly. Gaby almost collapsed into the night due to the emotional turmoil placed on her. Gaby couldn't blame her churning stomach on alcohol. Gaby shoved her hands in her pockets and pretended everything was okay. 

Gaby had barely taken a step when the door creaked loudly. "Do you want a ride home?"

Sadness consumed Gaby at the sound of his voice. "No." She hoped he was convinced, but her voice was wavering. Gaby sauntered away despite the fact she could feel her ex-boyfriend looking down on her.

"You're getting a ride home."

Gaby looked into the night sky. As she stared, the stars became visible. Too tired to fight and face her feelings, Gaby sighed in defeat. "Okay."


	13. Laughter

Illya was stressed. That was obvious. Being in the same car as your ex-girlfriend does that to you. The ex-girlfriend that you still loved. Who you broke up with by leaving in the middle the night. His knuckles were white while he gripped the steering wheel. His eyes stayed trained on the road, and he was definitely not stealing glances at a certain German girl. Illya barely held his composure under Gaby's scrutinizing eyes.

Gaby, on the other hand, was not shy about staring at Illya. Not staring.  _ Glaring.  _ She made sure he knew of her disdain for him. She slammed the door when she entered the car. Her piercing glare, along with the dead silence, was one of the many components that made the car ride uncomfortable. Gaby chewed on her bottom lip while examining Illya. Why not? Even if it meant sacrificing the silence, Gaby was curious about Napoleon's surprising revelation. "Who did Solo knock up?" She figured he might know.

Illya stomped on the brakes in the middle of the street. Gaby nursed her sore chest from slamming into her seatbelt and opened her mouth to curse at Illya. However, Illya's frantic eyes left her speechless. "He did what?" His Russian accent seemed stronger when he was upset. He pulled them into a parking lot as quickly as he could.

Stunned, Gaby stammered incoherently. She silenced herself and played with the hem of her shirt when he groaned softly. He threw his head back once they were safely parked and grimaced. His face scrunched up. Hatred for him forgotten, Gaby carefully reached her hand to touch his cool arm. Gaby's stomach dropped when she felt Illya shake. Gaby was bewildered when the familiar low rumbling of laughter erupted from Illya.

"Illya?"

"It's not funny," Illya said between laughs, "but I always told him this would happen."

Gaby blinked. Napoleon's escapades with various women were bound to have consequences at some point. But pregnancy was something that nobody expected. Gaby tried to fight the smile spreading on her face. "You're right." She was failing. "It's not funny." She burst into giggles like a child. 

It was quite a sight. Ex-lovers crying of laughter in a McDonald's parking lot. Gaby was doubled over and clutching her sides while laughing. Illya's hand's covered his face while he leaned laughed. The howling was muffled, but his body violently shook from his loud laughter. Every so often, one would make a joke that would send the other farther into the hole of amusement they were digging.

Illya stifled his amusement long enough to drive Gaby the remaining few blocks to the apartment complex while she tried she regain her composure. When he pulled into a parking spot, Gaby's laughter died down, and her smile faded quickly. Reality flooded back to her and left her with nothing but sore cheeks and sides. Her sudden seriousness contrasted with Illya's lack of control.

"Would you like to come in with me?" Gaby asked. her brows were slightly downturned as she looked at him.

Illya chuckled weakly and searched her face for any trace of humor. There was none. His grin fell away and morphed into his usual solemn demeanor. He opened his mouth as if to say something but quickly shut it. He turned his head away in thought. Gaby clenched her eyes shut to prepare for the impending rejection. Illya finally spoke, though raspy and weak from his previous laughter, "Okay."

Gaby's eyes snapped open. She stared at Illya in wonder. he refused to meet her eyes, but it was enough. "Okay?" She couldn't believe it.

"Mhm," He hummed quietly while nodding, still avoiding her gaze. 

Gaby breathily chuckled and fell back into her seat. "Okay," she repeated. She smiled to herself. Gaby couldn't see it, but he was smiling too.

________________________________

Illya hesitantly trailed Gaby as she walked to her apartment. Guilt made his hands tremble and put a pit in his throat. His eyes avoided the small woman guiding him and focused on the carpet instead.

Gaby's heart was doing cartwheels. Her determination to despise Illya had all but disappeared. The man she loved was following her back to her apartment. Solo can eat shit. A pang of guilt pricked at her, but Gaby brushed it off in favor of the happiness she was feeling. As she unlocked the door, Gaby spoke, "Welcome back." She held it open for him to walk through.

Illya smiled at her as he walked through. "Wow," he tilted his head curiously while reintroducing himself to her home, "I can't believe it's clean."

"Yep." Gaby silently thanked Napoleon. "Do you want a drink?"

Illya stopped in his place and looked over his shoulder. "No, thank you."

Gaby cursed Napoleon this time. If he had accepted, Gaby had nothing to give him except expired milk or water. She was left sipping, unsatisfied, on a glass of lukewarm water.

Illya strolled into the kitchen where Gaby was sitting on the counter. She smiled up at him. Though his smile was bittersweet, Illya reciprocated. 

Gaby had barely consumed alcohol that night, but she would go on to claim her actions were under the influence. The memories of that night would make her cheeks flush furiously from embarrassment. It may have been the fact he was in her home or the fact she was inhaling his cologne for the first time in weeks, but without thinking, Gaby blurted out, "I love you."

Illya just gaped at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this took longer than anticipated! B)


End file.
